


Monster Squad

by Scorpio71



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Monsters/Non-human, Supernatural Elements, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpio71/pseuds/Scorpio71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some non-human soldiers in the Army that are so strong, so scary, so…monstrous, that even the other monsters don’t want ‘em. That’s okay though, General Coleman has an idea of what to do with these losers…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Squad

**Author's Note:**

> Beware: Mangling of myths and history for fun, but not profit. Also, pottymouth language.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Sanjay Patel and Joseph Shepley are my own creation. Eliot Spencer of Leverage is owned by Dean Devlin and Electric Entertainment. Diggle & Jock own The Losers, but they might not recognize them since I let the comic get drunk and frisky with my D&D Monster Manual and an Abridged History of Ancient Mythology text.

**MONSTER SQUAD**

Captain Franklin Clay squinted at the administration building where the brass kept their offices and conference rooms and frowned. He’d been ordered to show up here, in human skin, for a meeting about a new team. He’d been waiting on a new assignment. He knew one was coming, there was always something in the works coming up the pike when you were military, but it was the whole ‘pretend to be human’ thing that made him wonder.

Most non-humans could either cast an illusion of humanity over themselves that could fool the senses and even some electronic surveillance equipment, or they could shapeshift outright and become human…or at least humanoid. Clay, as a khnum, fell into the first category.

Khnum were an ancient subspecies of humanity, actually. Large humanoid body with the head of a ram tacked on top. All khnum were born with the ability to bend light and turn invisible and as they got older developed a type of telekinesis that lent itself to the fine control of small objects as opposed to lifting heavy objects. All khnum had at least a minor talent in small illusions and magics, but there were those that were incredibly talented with magic. Clay himself stuck mostly to illusions.

And with an order to present himself in ‘human skin’, he’d cast an illusion over himself to hide his ram head and his large curving horns. Short dark hair, a human face that was somewhere between average and handsome. He looked…friendly, approachable. 

Clay used this particular visage the most because he felt it ensured that he was less scary to his fellow military personnel. The fact that it didn’t actually work never stopped Clay from trying though.

Either way it didn’t matter, when the brass said show up looking human, you showed up looking human. That’s how Clay found himself opening the door to conference room E214 while eyeing up a frowning sergeant walking up the hallway towards him. The sergeant tossed him a quick salute and muttered “Captain” at him just before following him in and shutting the door behind them. 

The general sat at the head of the conference room table with several folders in front of him. He looked up and gestured them in, “Captain Franklin Clay, Sergeant Elliot Spencer.” They both saluted quickly even as they were waved to find at seat at the table. “This is Major Sanjay Patel and Lieutenant William Roque.”

There was the obligatory moment or two where everyone made nice and did the social thing of nodding to each other and just generally acknowledging their existence. Clay was good at that kind of thing and didn’t mind it, but most military folk found it pretty annoying so it didn’t take long to get down to the reason for the meeting.

“Now,” started General Coleman, “we all know our history and how the aptly named Dark Ages heralded humanity’s xenophobia and the various non-human races retreating into the shadows and hiding away until human records listed them as either fables, myths, or extinct species. Then, WWII happened and many of the hidden communities were literally blasted open by munitions and the people living there once again came to the attention of the humans.”

Four snorts met that brief explanation for over a thousand years of segregation and suffering. The general just nodded in unspoken agreement.

“Even in the chaos and confusion of war, it took a bit for things to be reconciled, but for the most part the human and non-human worlds merged once again. As you all know this reconciliation was actively pushed for by the world’s militaries who wanted allies, not for another damn front on the war to be opened up. This led to recruitment of non-humans into the US Army and you are all here because that policy is still in place today.”

That last bit was a little surprising and had Clay’s eyebrows arching up. If this meeting was about non-human issues, than why was he asked to wear human skin?

“The US Army has a wide range of non-human members now-a-days and most teams have at least one and usually several non-humans on it. Most of them are either your basic shapeshifter, dwarves, and trolls.”

Clay nodded in agreement as those did seem to be the most numerous non-humans in the military. The shapeshifters simply had an animal form, usually a canine, feline, or equine and were wildly popular with the infantry units. The dwarves were easy to spot as they were so short, but they were brave, smart, and great with any type of tool or weapon. The motor pool and combat engineers practically waged war with each other over dwarves. Trolls were big, really strong, and not too bright. They had a bit of a temper, a notoriously shaky grasp on hygiene, and needed gentle handling, but once they placed their loyalty with a leader nothing would shake that and they would gladly die to protect their teams.

There was a bit of a pause and the general looked uncomfortable for a brief moment, but then he sighed and straightened his shoulders.

“The problem that the Army’s been noticing comes from those non-humans that are…more unique. The ones that have only a handful or less of their own kind in service. The ones that are a bit more…skilled. Dangerous.”

Lieutenant Roque scowled and huffed, “You mean the monsters that even the other monsters are afraid of.”

The general didn’t hesitate to snarl back, “I would never call anyone at this table a monster! You are all soldiers, dammit! Good ones too.”

Roque’s anger visibly dialed back and his shoulders relaxed a bit even as the general seemed to deflate somewhat. “However, you do have a point. There is…some fear on the base in regards to you. All of you.”

Major Patel nodded as if this was expected and Sergeant Spencer sighed, resigned. Clay mostly felt confused.

“Me, sir? I mean, I’m not scary.” General Coleman shot him a completely disbelieving look. “Well, I am because I kick ass and kill people for the Army very hard, but all soldiers do that. But I’m a khnum for pete’s sake. Khnum aren’t scary.”

After a brief moment of staring at each other, the general riffled through the folders he had until he found the one he was looking for and then opened it.

“I have a request for a transfer from the team you were on because, and I quote ‘Corporal Clay got angry, turned into the devil and sucked all the light out of the world.’ I have another report of terrified soldiers because ‘Lieutenant Clay got a head cold that made him turn invisible until he sneezed and reappeared out of thin air’.”

Clay wanted to argue that having a ram’s head didn’t make one a devil and also it hadn’t been the cold that made him lose his control over his invisibility, it had been the fever. However, General Coleman picked up the papers inside the folder and waved them in the air. 

“I’ve got lots more of these reports, complaints, and transfer requests. They sit side-by-side with numerous commendations and praises for the work you do. You’re a good solder Clay, but the normal troops are afraid of your gifts and talents.”

The general waved a hand in the air to take in the others. “These three are just the same. Praises and commendations mixed in with reports of teammates begging to transfer away from the scary dangerous non-human.” He sighed. “It’s a problem that goes beyond just this base. It’s all across the Army and other US militaries. So, the Pentagon figures the best way to deal with that is to take all those people that seem to be extra scary and shove ‘em together into teams.”

Lieutenant Roque snorted, “Monster squads.”

The general nodded in agreement.

“Major Patel will have command. His species is mountain wyvern.” Clay’s eyes snapped to the calm quiet man sitting next to the general. He could see how that would be scary to many. “The Major is a good soldier and a good man with a soft spot for small animals and young children. Despite this, I once personally watched a cherry recruit wet his pants and then burst into tears when the Major came screaming out of the sky to land next to him.”

General Coleman pointed at Clay, “The Captain will be his second.” Everyone turned to stare at Clay. “Rounding out the team will be Lieutenant Roque, a Nagas Oceanus and Sergeant Spencer a Blink Dog.”

Clay found it was his turn to stare, this time at Roque. He looked like a normal dark skinned human with a handsome face and broad shoulders but he was a Nagas Oceanus…a fucking sea serpent! In the Army for pete’s sake! He just couldn’t help himself, he had to ask “Don’t your people normally join the Navy?”

The lieutenant rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but I lost a bet.” It was said very sarcastically, but Clay believed him.

*

It didn’t take the new team long to move their things into the new team barracks and to get things set up. The major already had plans in the works for team training and bonding exercises so they’d be prepared for their first mission. Still, this whole ‘monster squad’ thing was a strange idea, one that would take a lot of work to make it a success, but Clay was pretty hopeful about it. Mostly he hoped that it meant he’d finally found a place where he could actually be himself and feel welcome.

As soon as things were in place and he could relax, Clay let the illusion of humanity drop and his real face and head became visible. Roque and Spencer looked at him oddly. “Okay,” said Roque, “that’s…weird.”

Clay snorted air out his nose. “What?”

Roque made swirling circular motions next to his ears with both hands. “Er… the horns.” Spencer stood next to him nodding in agreement. Clay rolled his eyes.

“Whatever…what I want to know is…” he pointed at Spencer, “blink dog? I’ve never heard of your people.”

Spencer nodded, “Yeah. Only about half of my people even have the potential to take human form. Since it takes roughly two years to learn how to shapeshift very few even bother.” Then he took a step back away from Roque and blurred briefly. When his form solidified, in his place stood a huge dog that looked greatly like a brown and blond Rottweiler. Only its shoulder was about waist high on Roque and its head was about as tall as the big man’s rib cage. Also, the dog had dark brown razor sharp spikes running down its back like a row of porcupine quills. He lifted his lip and exposed some very impressive canine teeth.

Clay nodded, but to be honest he was confused. Yeah, Spencer was a big dog, huge even, but how was that scary enough to be classed with the monsters? Then, with a soft little popping sound, Spencer disappeared. Clay gaped and saw Roque doing the same…and pointing behind him. Clay spun around to see Spencer standing there, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a doggy laugh. 

Okay, yeah…that could be scary. Teleportation was impressive as all hell.

Then Spencer blurred again and seemed to almost melt upwards into human shape. He grinned a smug little grin. “The look on your faces…man that shit never gets old.”

Clay snapped his jaw shut even as Roque growled out “why you little shit” under his breath. Spencer just chuckled and smirked, so Clay telekinetically reached out and picked up a rubber band off the counter in the kitchen area and gave it a good stretch before snapping it at the smug bastard. It hit Spencer in the chest causing him to yelp and blink away. He and Roque were the ones to chuckle that time even as Spencer cautiously peeked out of the bathroom.

“The fuck was that?”

Clay and Roque shared an amused glance before Clay confessed, “A rubber band.”

Confusion washed over the sergeant’s face. “How?”

Clay shrugged and lifted the rubber band again. “Telekinesis.” He pulled it taunt and snapped it Spencer again. This time the other man caught it in his hand.

“Ha ha, very funny Cap.” He rolled his eyes. “And you wonder why people think you’re scary?”

Clay nodded, his expression going a bit confused. “Honestly, yeah, I do wonder. I mean,” he gestured towards Rogue, “especially compared to a wyvern and a naga.”

“Clay,” Roque’s voice was deadpan, “I’m still learning about the various surface dwellers and even I know that your people were once worships as fucking gods in ancient times.”

Clay rolled his eyes dismissively. “One khnum invented the pottery wheel and taught some human how to shape and bake clay taken from the banks of the Nile and the humans started a silly little cult. He wasn’t a god, just damn good at his craft.” He waved a hand through the air, “My people are crafters and artisans. I’m the odd sheep being a fighter and soldier. I don’t see how I could be scary at all.”

Spencer stepped out of the bathroom completely and shared a telling glance with Rogue and shook their heads at him, but Clay knew his people. They weren’t anything to be frightened of.

Then Spencer turned to Rogue and said, “So, what about you Lieutenant?”

Roque frowned, “What about me?”

Spencer shrugged and grinned, “Well, I’ve heard of naga, but I’ve never seen one. Me and the Cap here showed you our pretty faces, so let’s see yours.”

Roque smirked, “I’m not pretty, I’m a fierce and terrifying work of art forged from chaos and nightmares.” He reached up and began to peel off his uniform, slowing stripping down. “But if you want to bask in the awe inspiring glory of my savage beauty, who am I to argue.”

When Roque was naked except for a shining blue jewel set in an intricate twisting design of black metal that hung on a heavy chain around his neck, he held the jewel tightly in his fist and hummed a weird haunting note. The jewel pulsed with a power that Clay recognized as high sorcery, gaining in strength quickly until it flashed a brilliant green glow that washed over Roque, transforming him as it went.

Where a tall heavily muscled black man had once stood there was now a full grown naga sea serpent; with the draconian head, the humanoid chest and arms, and the long snake like tail, and all of it decorated with fish like spines and fins. Roque’s chest and belly scales were small and formed a triangular pattern in tones of ash, silver, and sea-foam green. His head and back scales were a deep purple shading into jet black and the ones along his back and spine were thick plates that resembled draconian armor more than actual fish scales. He had four purple tentacle whiskers growing from his bottom jaw, two on each side of his head and the spines that crowned his head and ran down his back and the backs of his arms were also a deep purple. The webbing that made up the fins between the spines were two-toned. Close to his body the fins were a bright magenta that faded out to a silvery sea-foam green that matched his belly scales.

He was also big. From the top of his head fin to the tip of his tail, he was probably about sixteen feet in length. His arms and shoulders were massive, the muscles under those scales bulging with raw power and strength.

Spencer gaped a bit, but Clay just smirked and nodded. Savage beauty was a damn good description of Roque in his true form. “You terrify sharks, don’t you?”

Roque tipped back his head and hissed a laugh, forked serpents tongue flickering out. “Sharks are good eats.”

*

They were given the shit details, the impossible missions, the assignments that no one else could do. They were the losers every time the brass rolled the dice to determine who went where to do what.

They kept surprising the brass, and honestly themselves as well, when they completed the missions and made it home alive again.

Only this time they weren’t all gonna make it. He knew that. He hated it, but he couldn’t figure out how to change it.

They were in the fucking desert and Roque hated the desert. Of course he did, he was a fucking sea serpent. Naga liked it best when things were dark, cold and wet. The desert was bright, hot and arid. The very air injured Roque, it stung his lungs and dried out his skin. It sapped his strength and made him irritable and, all puns aside, crabby. 

And Spencer was down, he’d caught a bullet to the shoulder that spun him around and knocked him down. He’d hit his head when he landed and now he was unconscious, a heavy weight draped across Clays’ shoulders in dog form.

He exchanged meaningful looks with the major that were filled with dark knowledge. The intel had been bad, either because someone wasn’t doing their job right or because someone wanted them out of the way. What should have been a lightly defended resupply station deep in enemy territory was a heavily defended fort. It wasn’t a refuel station, but a weapons depot.

Clay could see the decision in Sanjay Patel’s eyes the instant he made it. The fear and anger bleeding away to leave sorrow and determination in its place.

He shook his head in denial, “Major, no…there’s gotta be another way.”

Something in his voice must have given his fears away because Rogue looked back at them from where he was covering their retreat. “What?”

The major was firm, though, “Get these boys back to the transport and get out of here. I’ll meet you at the safehouse if I can.” Then he turned and walked off.

“Patel, you asshole,” Clay snarled in frustration and terror, “come with us. We’ll all leave together.”

He just smiled back over his shoulder sadly before saying, “That’s an order Captain.”

Then between one heartbeat and the next, the major shifted, swelling into immensity. As a wyvern, the major was huge, sorta like a two legged and leather winged rhino. Instead of the horned nose, however, a wyvern had a long prehensile tail that ended in a giant scorpion stinger. With a powerful leap with his legs, the major launched himself into the air to the startled shrieks and cursing of the enemy combatants. Instantly, the bullets stopped being shot at them and were aimed solely at the major.

“That stupid fucking dumb fuck!” Clay ignored the fact that his voice was more teary heartbroken than angry.

“Clay!” Roque smacked him in the arm. “We’ve got a clear shot to the transport. We gotta take it now!”

Clay turned an incredulous look at the lieutenant.

“Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain!” and then Roque pointed into the sky and Clay looked over just in time to watch a hail of bullets punch multiple holes through the major’s wings even as he screamed down out of the sky to snatch a man in his claws and soar off with him.

Clay swallowed hard, shifted Spencer across his shoulders and then turned and ran all the while trying not to puke with worry over his team leader and good friend’s safety. He could hear Roque’s footsteps and his wheezing breath right behind him as they scrambled up the side of a rocky hill. They needed to reach the flat plateau at the top and then dash about half a mile to the transport. Gunfire, explosions and screams rent the air behind them.

The distinctive, and distinctly horrifying, whooshing sound of antiaircraft artillery came from the enemy fort and had Clay swirling around just in time to watch the major get exploded into a fiery rain of meaty chunks.

“SANJAY!!!!”

Even as the name screamed out of his mouth, something deep inside his brain clicked smoothly into place.

All khnum are born with the ability to bend light. It’s part of how they can seem invisible. A few of the stronger elders, however, have developed the ability to actively absorb light and then channel it back out through their palms in concussive blasts. Clay never had that ability, at least not until fear fueled rage and grief slammed through his brain on a barren desert hillside as his friend and leader’s body fell from the sky in pieces.

Clay swung his arms open wide and darkness swarmed across the hills as if nighttime had come early and Clay was the only burning star in the sky. Then, with a pulse that rattled bones in their flesh cages, Clay brought his arms together with his palms held out and aimed at the fort. A powerful blast of solid light shot from his hands and arced across the land to smash into the guys manning the artillery. The weapon was launched into the air and the men were sent straight to the afterlife. Clods of dirt rained down and the enemy scrambled away shrieking.

“Sonnova…” Roque breathed out.

Clay wobbled on his feet, suddenly exhausted. His vision dimmed and then Roque was there, sliding Spencer off his shoulders and into his own arms.

“Come on, Clay.” Roque’s voice was surprisingly gentle, “We gotta get out of here. Get the puppy home all safe and sound. It’s what the major wanted.”

Clay looked up at him, heartbreak in his eyes even as he nodded and turned away to force himself back up the trail.

*

He’d been promoted to major and given the leadership of the team. He wasn’t sure if that made him proud or want to puke, to be honest. Roque and Spencer were great at their jobs and he was grateful for that because he leaned on them heavily right at first. Mostly, he just missed Sanjay Patel like crazy. He tried to do his best to honor him and make him proud, but he felt like he was failing on all counts. That hurt most of all.

The brass decided that they were a man down and that they needed a sniper. Or perhaps another flyer. Either way, a few days later a silent and mercurial gryphon named Sergeant Carlos Alvarez showed up. He called himself Cougar, which made sense in that he was an American Gryphon which had the body of a puma and the head and wings of a golden eagle; unlike the Mediterranean Gryphon that populated Africa and Europe that was a mix of eagle and lion or the Asiatic Gryphon which was a mix of eagle and tiger.

In any case, Cougar rarely spoke, favored cowboy hats, could shoot the wings off a fly at nearly a mile distance, and was bigger than a horse when in gryphon form. He had a habit of finding the highest spot possible and then basking in the sunlight until something on the ground caught his attention and then he pounced. Usually the pounce-ee was Spencer in dog form blinking in and out of existence and making a general nuisance of himself. It wasn’t easy to catch a spec-ops soldier highly trained in the evasive arts, especially when he could teleport at will, but that never stopped Cougar from trying.

So yeah, he had a sea serpent in love with machetes and explosions, a blink dog that loved to tease everyone and start bar brawls for fun, and a gryphon that wanted to laze about in the sun if he wasn’t allowed to shoot everyone around him. Honestly, herding feral cats would be easier.

*

Clay spit water out of his mouth, “This officially sucks.” A huff of laughter had him twisting in the water to see Roque’s fins fan open wide behind his head as he breached the waters of the Atlantic. Sunlight and the fire of the burning chopper behind them glinted off of Roque’s wet purple scales as he grinned, his jaws gaping open to flash razor sharp fangs.

“Oh, I don’t know. Feels like home to me.”

Clay rolled his eyes. Of course the sea serpent would feel right at home in the middle of the goddamn ocean.

A shadow passed over them and he looked up into the sky. Cougar soared by, the chopper pilot assigned to transport them clinging to the back of the gryphon. The poor guy probably didn’t know whether to piss or come in his pants, after all, it wasn’t every day that you got to ride on the back of a semi-mythical creature.

He sighed even as Spencer doggy paddled over to them, annoyance and pain easy to read in the canine features.

“Which way is closest to land?”

Without hesitation Roque pointed. “That’s where the shot came from. If we shift our aim just a bit,” Roque’s arm shifted slightly until he was pointing just a degree or so off to the left, “we’ll hit land with no one on it.”

Clay nodded and started swimming in that direction. “All right losers, let’s go.”

Then Spencer was suddenly there right in front of him, his wet furry head arching up under Clay’s hand and shifting a bit. “What the…Spence, now’s not the time pal.” Clay tried to shove the blink dog away, but Spencer came back and shoved up against him again. “Sergeant!”

Roque hissed a laugh, “He wants you to grab hold of his collar and harness Clay.”

Spencer nodded his canine head in agreement. Clay frowned uncertain, but reached out and wrapped his fingers around the harness that the blink dog wore on mission to hold his equipment in place. Then, without warning, the world smeared into a kaleidoscope of light, sound, and sensation. It was as if reality turned inside out for a brief moment and then suddenly the world slammed into place around him again and the shoreline was visibly closer than before. Clay twisted his head and looked behind to see Roque off in the distance behind them as he suddenly dove under the water, his fins cutting through the waves like a bad omen.

“Did you just teleport me?” he asked stupidly. Spencer huffed out a half barked laugh and blinked them away again. 

It took three more blinks till they were close enough to the shore that the waves were practically washing them ashore. Spencer was literally shaking with exhaustion and pain so Clay towed him to dry land. He was horrified when he saw the gaping wound in the blink dog’s side.

“The fuck!” Clay leaned down to examine it closer and could easily see a glint of metal. “You stupid mutt! Teleport me all the way to land when you have a hunk of the damn chopper sticking out of your ribs!”

A shadow passed over head and Clay tipped his head back and shouted for the circling gryphon, “Cougar! Get down here now!”

A raptor cry was his answer and then dust and dirt swirled around them and the sound of large feather wings drowned out everything else as the huge gryphon landed next to them. Several packs hit the ground even as a human voice whooped with joy, “God damn that was amazing! Fuckin’ A! Love the damn monster squads! You guys fuckin’ rock!” and then the chopper pilot followed the packs and slid off of Cougar’s back with a thump.

The pilot, a Captain Joseph Shepley, walked out from behind Cougar’s wing with a huge grin that melted instantly into a frown.

“Shit! What happened to him? He okay!”

“No,” Clay shook his head, “Took a piece of the chopper in the side and then exhausted himself getting to shore. Cougar, check the packs. Do we have a med-kit?”

There was a sucking sound accompanied by a grinding noise and the loud cracking of bones breaking and rearranging as Cougar transformed into a human shape. He’d been informed that it hurt as much as it sounded like. In the end, Cougar was kneeling in the sand gasping even as he reached for one of the packs. Shepley didn’t even offer out loud, he just spun to a different pack and began rifling through it to help search.

It was Shepley that found it and ran it over. Cougar pushed himself up and staggered over and dropped down beside Clay. 

“Can you fix him?”

Cougar stared at the wound for a long moment. “If…if he was in human form, yeah. Medic training. I don’t know enough about blink dog anatomy and…” he shook his head. “I can patch him long enough to get him real medical help…hopefully. If someone knows blink dog medicine.”

Looking through the med-kit, Cougar pulled out a syringe and a bottle of what Clay knew was pain killer and loaded the syringe partway. “Human dose. Hope it’s enough to help and not hurt.” Then he injected it into Spencer’s shoulder.

He snapped open a bottle of sterile saline and rinsed the wound, before handing it to Clay and snapping, “Iodine!” at Shepley.

Just then Roque lurched up and out of the surf before slithering his way up the sand towards them. He swung his arms about and flared his fins. “Sorry it took so long, but I had to stop and fight off a bunch of motherfucking sharks while you two blinked to shore.” Roque loomed up behind Clay dripping everywhere and then went still when he saw Spencer. “Shit…now I fuckin’ know why there were motherfucking sharks coming from all directions out there.”

Clay’s eyes went wide at that and he twisted around to eye Roque from tip to top. “You okay? Any injuries?”

Roque snorted and shook his head, his fins flaring out. “Naw. Just a few bumps and bruises. No bites.”

Clay nodded. “Good.” Then he turned back in time to watch Cougar bandage up Spencer’s side and frowned.

“Is there a medical facility anywhere near here that you know of Shepley?”

The pilot was nodding before he finished asking the question. “Yeah.” He squinted in thought. “There should be a small local clinic about…er, maybe three miles or so to the south east. Head due west along the coast about ten miles and there’s a much larger regional hospital.”

“Cougar…” Clay didn’t even get to finish what he planned to say because Cougar was nodding even as he secured the last bandage. “Si. We will go to the regional hospital. Further away, but better chance they can actually help. Shepley can come and keep Spence from falling off.”

Then Cougar was back on his feet and stumbling away before he dropped to all fours and that same sucking bone grinding sound came again and Clay felt so fucking helpless. Helpless with fixing Spencer’s injuries. Helpless with Cougar’s painful transformations and the need to fly vast distances. Helpless with fighting sharks or stopping the chopper from being shot down. 

Being helpless just served to piss him off, so he turned and snarled at Shepley, “Don’t you dare let Spence fall off of Cougar’s back! And once he has medical help, get on the damn horn and have them send someone to pick us the fuck up.”

Shepley snapped off a salute, “Yessir!” and then turned to scramble back up onto Cougar’s back. Roque slithered forward and gently scooped up Spencer and carried him over. It was awkward and Cougar had to extend his one wing oddly for Rogue to fit behind it, but he managed and was able to lift Spencer up to Shepley. 

It didn’t take long for Shepley to get Spencer settled and braced. Then Cougar took a few loping steps before leaping up into the air with a loud snap of wings.

*

“What do you mean Sergeant Spencer’s off the team!?” Clay bellowed.

He was so angry that his blood pressure was soaring through the roof. He was fairly sure he could feel his horns throb in time to his heartbeat.

“The injury’s bad, yeah, but he’ll heal up just fine. The doc’s said so!”

General Coleman sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly. “I know. But General Ricketts want him for his team and…”

“Ricketts!”

Coleman glared. “I fought for him Clay, but I got shouted down. He insists he needs the sergeant’s teleportation skills.”

*

“Fuck!” Clay growled at Roque. “I feel like slamming my head into a brick wall would be more productive.”

Roque eyed the thick curve of horn curling around Clay’s ram shaped skull. “Well, you are uniquely suited to do so.”

Clay gave Roque a flat stare of annoyance until Roque grinned and raised his hands in surrender and stepped back a step. Clay sighed.

“I’ve been trying to convince people we need Spencer in order to keep him out of Ricketts twisted hands but all I’ve managed to do is get a promise that we’ll get two new team members instead.”

Roque shook his head, “Clay…you need to relax about Spencer. Yeah, we’ll miss him. He’s a good friend and one hell of a soldier, but he’s also a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

Clay glared. “And if he doesn’t? If Ricketts fucks him over?”

Rogue shrugged. “Then I pack Ricketts’ ass in a suitcase and go for a visit back home.”

Clay blinked. “Uh…Roque, technically your home is in a village deep in the Mariana Trench.”

Roque shrugged again. “So?”

*

Clay had sent Roque to get the two new guys, which was probably mean since Roque was feeling grumpy, but he didn’t have much choice. He’d taken a tumble down a flight of stairs yesterday and twisted his ankle badly. Cougar was insisting that Clay stay seated with his foot elevated and his ankle periodically draped in bags of melting ice. Grumpy sea serpents were one thing, but stubborn gryphons demanding to get their own way or else was another thing altogether.

Just then the front door to their barracks slammed open and three men came in carrying bags and boxes with them, Roque in front. Roque dropped the bags he’d been holding and pointed at a shorter light skinned black man and said, “This is Sergeant Linwood Porteous, transpo and heavy weps.”

The guy beamed a smile dropped one of his bags and raised the hand to shift his sunglasses up onto his head. “Hey, call me Pooch.”

Roque nodded. “I like him.” Then he frowned and pointed to the tall muscular blond.

“This is Corporal Jensen, Tech and Comms.” Roque’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “As far as I can tell, he never shuts up.”

The blond grinned. “Don’t worry. I mean, yeah, I’m a bit annoying at first, but then the Stockholm Syndrome sets in and you realize that you adore me and can’t do without.” 

Roque looked over at Clay with begging eyes. “That sounds dangerous Clay. I should just kill ‘em now and spare us the pain later.”

Jensen laughed and a curl of smoke drifted out of both nostrils. It was a neat effect.

Clay just grinned and shook his head. “I’m Major Frank Clay and this,” he pointed to Cougar, “is Sergeant Carlos Alvarez or Cougar. And of course, you’ve already met Lieutenant Roque.”

*

“Now we’ve been going through the obstacle course these past couple days in order to learn what each of us can do and to operate as a team.” Clay looked over his team, concentrating on the two new members. “But we’re a monster squad for a reason, so this time I want us to run through it in beast form.” 

He gestured vaguely around him. “Unlike you four, I am always in beast form as my humanity is an illusion…just a minor bit of magic to fool the senses and make me seem like a human. My physical stats will stay the same, but I’m not going to hold back from using my other…talents, so to speak.”

With that, Clay dropped the illusion he wore to hide his ram shaped head. Jensen whistled. “Damn, those are some sweet horns ya got there boss.”

Clay picked up a small pebble with his telekinesis and flicked it at Jensen’s forehead. The big blond yelped and grabbed his head. “Sorry! Shutting up now!” The others chuckled.

He rolls his eyes, grins, and says, “All right you losers, time to change.”

And because none of them have any inkling of what the word modesty means, they all start stripping down right there at the obstacle course. This seems to be a signal to those around them that have no clue who they are to stare in confused shock…and for those that do know to back the fuck away.

Roque hums that weird little naga magic spell while holding his amulet and melts into his true form. Some of the human soldiers out on the course yelp in shock and topple over off of their own feet. Jensen gaps for a brief moment before breaking out into a huge grin. “Wicked! Love the fins.”

Roque preened.

“Only…I thought naga had like four arms or something.”

Roque snorts and side-eyes Jensen a bit. “That’s the females. And you should be grateful I’m not a female naga ‘cause the ladies of my species are cranky bitches that love to toss high level magics around like its confetti. I’ll just gut a fucker with my knives.”

Pooch chortled and pointed at Jensen. “You’ve been told!” Jensen took the mature route and stuck his tongue out at Pooch. 

Then the familiar bone crunching and sucking noise of Cougar’s transformation had them all pretending not to wince and cringe. Honestly, Clay’s been hearing that sound on and off for nearly two years now and it’s just as horrifying today as it was the first time.

Finally, a panting and tired gryphon big enough to make clydesdale horses look dainty is laying in the grass. This apparently kicked Jensen’s ADHD into high gear because he turned on his heel and headed straight for the sniper murmuring “Oooo feathers!”

Clay can tell that Roque and Pooch are just as amused by this as he is. Even Cougar seems to be amused and is indulgently allowing Jensen to pet and preen his chest feathers. Cougar is, after all, a vain bird and enjoys being cooed over. “Well,” Clay drawls, “it looks like we’ve lost Jensen until all of Cougar’s feathers have been unruffled.”

Pooch and Roque snort in unison and Clay turns to smirk at Pooch. “So let’s see your beast, Sergeant.”

Pooch nods and strips off the last of his clothes and flings his boxers on top of the rest of it and just sort of melts into this dark thick liquid that twists and grows and reforms over and over until it solidifies into an honest-to-goodness fucking cerberus. Pooch, for real, is a three headed dog with the shaggy fur and graceful lines of a wolf, a tail which is a hissing serpent and each of the three fork-tongued heads has a lions mane of hissing medusa-like snakes.

He is utterly terrifying and it’s easy to see why human myths has his species working as the gate guards and wardens for the worst hellpits of the underworld. Anything less would be unable to keep the devils and fiends locked up inside.

Roque sorta gapes for a moment and then shakes his head. “You are a motherfucking cerberus, a hell-dog…and you call yourself…Pooch?”

“I know, right?” Jensen calls, twisting himself so that he can look over at them without actually letting go of Cougar. “Pooch is a dumb name for a cerberus. He should call himself Fluffy.”

All three of Pooch’s canine heads turn to growl at Jensen even as his serpent tail and all the medusa snakes pull forward to hiss at him. Clay just sighs at Roque. “This really is my circus and these really are my fucked up monkeys, huh?”

Roque, the unsympathetic bastard, just laughed.

Clay glared at him for a long moment then turned away with a huff. “Come on Jensen. Enough standing around naked and flirting with Cougar. Let’s see your beast.”

Jensen gave Cougar’s chest one last pet with a sad little pout and mumbled, “but feathers…” before he turned and stomped away to a clear bit of space and sighed. “Fine. But you have to totally protect me from these huge monsters Clay. I’m a delicate little flower and I don’t want to get eaten.”

Pooch made a rumbling growly sound amidst a bunch of tiny hisses and Clay could only assume that the cererbus was laughing.

“No one is going to eat you, Corporal, you have my word.” Clay promised simply because that was the easiest path to getting Jensen to follow orders without a hassle.

Jensen nodded and then closed his eyes. He stood there for a brief moment in what seemed to be concentration and then, without warning, he burst into flames. When the flames cleared, sitting there on the scorched grass grooming his claws, was a brilliantly colored scarlet and gold dragonet. Dragonets were identical in form and function to the greater dragons, but on a much smaller scale. Instead of being the size of a 747 plane, dragonets were about the size of a goose, or maybe a turkey. Clay realized that Jensen had actually been serious about not letting him get eaten. He was about the prefect snack size for a gryphon, naga, or cerberus.

“Awww,” Roque cooed sarcastically, “How cute!”

Jensen turned his little dragon head towards Roque, unhinged his jaw and belched out a fireball the size of a watermelon.

“Alright,” Clay clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s do this thing, losers.”

*

They may or may not have broken any records on the obstacle course. No one’s really sure. 

What Clay is absolutely certain about is that they broke the course itself. Snapped ropes, churned up mud puddles, knocked down walls, bent monkey bars, and scorch marks everywhere. Also, the Sergeant in charge of the course walked away just a tiny bit traumatized and valiantly trying not to cry.

Clay’s counting it as a win.

*

They may be been banned from the obstacle course even after it had been repaired, but there was still plenty of training exercises they’d done, both in human skin and out. There had been range time, flight simulators, parachuting, open ocean rescue training, urban warfare training, not to mention mock battles with and against other teams.

Today they had another training exercise. This time there was a several platoons guarding a flag at the top of the hill and his team had to somehow capture it to win. They were all looking forward to it. They were heading to the bunker where they could get ready and make their plans when General Coleman stepped out onto the walkway. They all saluted.

Coleman threw out a lazy salute and a smile. “Hello boys,” he said and got a handful of voices saying “General” back. Then one hand rested on Clay’s arm even as he watched the general shoo his team towards the bunker with the other. “Go on, I won’t keep the major for long.”

A few glances were exchanged and then Roque barked, “You losers heard the general. March.” Clay smirked slightly as he watched them fail to actually march like soldiers but saunter off like a group of half-drunk hoodlums. It was actually a bit of a mystery how a handful of feral maniac monsters made such excellent soldiers, but…those four were living proof.

“So, Clay…” General Coleman’s voice was slightly hesitant and that made Clay stop and turn to face him. “How do you feel the team is working out?” 

Clay frowned slightly, a thoughtful look sliding over his face as he seriously considered the general’s question. He still mourned for Sanjay Patel as the man had been his personal hero and a true friend. He really missed Eliot Spencer’s sincere integrity and playfulness. However, he also had a very good feeling about the team as it stood right then. 

“General…what do you know about alchemy?”

General Coleman frowned slightly and tipped his head. “Well, it’s considered the basis of both science and magic; specifically chemistry and potions. Some claim that the creation of the universe was a celestial alchemical process that’s still happening.”

Clay nodded his head in agreement. “Exactly. They say that the five alchemical elements are the basic building blocks of everything, both magical and mundane. Do you know what those five elements are?”

Coleman gave Clay a narrowed eyed look and opened his mouth, but then seemed to change his mind and decided to play along and let Clay lead him down whatever garden path he was interested in. “Sure, there is air, fire, water, earth, and um…magic?”

Clay gestured vaguely around him, “Air…or a gaseous physical state, water…or liquid, earth or solid matter, fire is sometimes thought of as heat or energy, and I’ve heard magic also referred to as knowledge or even the soul.” He shrugged. “All five are needed to create life.”

The general blinked, obviously confused about this line of thought. Clay smiled.

“The team, as is currently stands, could be seen as an alchemical equation. Roque represents water, Cougar air, Jensen fire, and Pooch earth.”

Coleman smirked, “And that would leave you as magic?”

Clay smirked back and allowed the sunlight to briefly dance across his horns in a shimmer of sparkles. “Perhaps.” Then he grew serious and said, “In any event, I…I have a good feeling about the team. I think you’ve put together something special here, sir.”

The general smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Frank Clay: Khnum – Egyptian Mythology  
> William Roque: Nagas Oceanus – WOW  
> Linwood “Pooch” Porteous: Cerberus – Greek Mythology  
> Carlos “Cougar” Alvarez: Gryphon – Persian Mythology  
> Jake Jensen: Dragonet – Dungeons and Dragons  
> Sanjay Patel: Wyvern – Welsh Mythology  
> Eliot Spencer: Blink Dog – Dungeons and Dragons


End file.
